Project 365
by Vanus Empty
Summary: [Summary Rewritten] There's only so many paths one can take in this life and the next before you're brought back together again. Semi—unrelated drabbles.
1. Adorable

Project 365 is an ongoing project with myself. It will be updated daily, unless circumstances prevent it. This is a collection of semi-unrelated romantic/angsty/ect. drabbles. Pairings range from Cloud/Tifa, Yuffie/Vincent, Cid/Shera, Reno/Rufus, Tseng/Elena, Aerith/Zack. Yes, there will be minor shounen-ai in the Reno/Rufus pairing. Nothing explicit.

* * *

It wasn't as though he didn't like her. No, that wasn't it. He just couldn't stand someone who was just so ... happy all day. Yuffie Kisaragi was truly the opposite of Vincent Valentine. While he could answer a question with a single word, Yuffie would sometimes ramble for five minutes her answer, more often than not saying something completely off-topic before someone would yell, "Jeez, Yuffie! Answer the question!" and she would finally get her point across.

While Vincent could ask a question with a slight inclination of the eyebrow and/or his head, Yuffie would make elaborate gestures, sometimes waving her arms around in a fashion that resembled someone who was about to topple over a cliff and still trying to regain balance. He once saw Yuffie make those gestures and fall over, prompting a half-laugh out of him which shocked the fallen ninja. She promptly spent the next two hours trying to get Vincent to laugh at a joke or one of her "special ninja moves."

Also, Vincent could remain silent for hours. Yuffie could hardly stay silent for five minutes. She'd twitch for a good while, open her mouth a couple times, and then finally speak to the first person she could get in her sights

Yes, it wasn't as though he didn't like her. Infact, he found her lame jokes, halfhearted insults and oddly amusing nicknames quite adorable.


	2. 4:21 AM

**4:21 AM. **No pairing. Un-beta'd. Anyone wanna be my beta?

* * *

A loud crack of thunder woke Tifa up in the middle of the night. Her body jerked in surprise, waking her up with an obvious start. "Huh, what?" She murmered, looking around her dark room. "What happened?" She asked to the darkness. No answer. She looked to her nightstand. The clock showed 3:45 AM. A moment later, the room illuminated as a lightning stuck somewhere close by, followed by another crash of thunder. She yelped, pulling her blankets to her chest. Tifa and thunderstorms never did mix. They reminded her to Nibelheim.

"T-Tifa?" A voice asked carefully from within the darkness. She frowned, leaning over to her nightstand, turning the table light on. Tifa winced, waiting a few moments as her eyes adjusted to the light. She looked towards where the voice came from, smiling in mild surprise at Denzel who leaned against the doorway, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Denzel? What's wrong?"

The little boy frowned, trying to get the words out of his mouth. "Well, I... Ah!" He yelped, rushing forwards and practically throwing himself onto Tifa's bed, face buried in the blankets covering her legs.

Tifa smiled, reaching down to run her fingers gently through Denzel's hair. "Scared?" She asked, almost laughing when she felt Denzel nod his head against her calves. "Wanna sleep in my bed tonight?"

"Uh-huh. Please?" Denzel asked, voice muffled.

"Mhm. C'mon, climb in with me," she said, lifting the blankets up near her enough for Denzel to crawl in with her. Denzel moved, slipping under the sheets and curling up, back to Tifa. She smiled faintly, reaching over to turn the light off.

Silence descended for a few minutes before Tifa believed he was asleep. When she began to get comfortable, however, another boom of thunder sounded. Denzel twitched, turning around and looking up at Tifa. "Tifa?"

"Mm... Yes?" She opened her eyes, looking down at him.

"I'm scared," Denzel whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. "Storms remind me of when the plate fell. Metal bending, lights flashing... All the noises..."

Tifa frowned, wrapping an arm around him. "Don't worry, Denzel. This isn't the plate. It's just a storm. You're safe... It's just a storm," she repeated, running her fingers through his soft brown hair. She didn't have to see his face to know that he was smiling contentedly.

"Eh... Tifa? You awake?" Another voice asked from the doorway. Swallowing down the urge to groan, an increasing difficult task as Denzel giggled, she turned towards the door. "Yes, Cloud?" She asked, voice both amused and annoyed.

A pause. "Can I, uh, well... Don't take this the wrong way, but—" She interupted with a laugh. "Yes, Cloud. You can sleep with us."

"Us?" Cloud asked.

A giggle erupted from Denzel. "Hey, Cloud!"

Cloud crawled onto the bed, head halfway up the bed with his feet hanging down. He grabbed a pillow and wrapped his arms around it. "Hey, little man," he said. Denzel smiled at him. With a sigh, Tifa looked to her clock. 4:21 AM.


	3. Ego

Cross-posted from my 1000themes at GreatestJournal. I wanted to get this up; it amused me. I most likely will post another one tonight.

* * *

Lord Godo Kisaragi turned his head towards his daughter, Yuffie, who seemed more interested in ridding her nails of any dirt than paying attention to him and his conversation. "Yuffie!" He snapped at her, aggitated that she wouldn't at least _pretend_ to be listening.

Yuffie, startled, looked to her father. "What?"

"Can't you pay attention for one single moment, girl?" He ground out, tired.

Grinning cheekily to him, she stood from her kneeling position and walked over to Godo. Swooping down, she planeted a kiss to his slightly unshaven cheek and looked at him dead in the eyes. "Don't worry, old man. I've been paying clear attention. You don't have to _worry_," she said.

Godo frowned, not trusting her. "Then, what have I said?"

"You said," she began, "that ever since Vince and the rest of AVALANCHE, including my lovely self, beated those Deepground bitches, people in Wutai have been more at ease. And that, reports from all around the place have been coming in, saying they've been repairing the damage Deepground caused. And, the missing people still alive have been returned safely to their cities, towns, villages, ect." Yuffie grinned.

Impressed, he smiled. "Not bad. You do pay attention," he admitted.

Laughing, she nodded. "Of course, dad. I am more than a pretty face with dirty nails. I'm Yuffie, materia lover, saver of the world. Twice!"

"Oh, yes, but, you had help," Godo said.

She pouted, but nodded and said, "Yes, yes. I know. But those guys would never had beaten Sephiroth without my lovely Doom of the Living and All Creation. And Vinnie and Reeve's gang would never had defeated Deepground and frickin' Hojo-turned-ghost-possessing-that-Weiss-guy without my intellegence gathering and whatnot." She laughed.

"...You have a real large ego, Yuffie," said Godo, crossing his arms over her chest.

"Yes, I do. Now, cater to it and tell me you're proud of me!"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Yes, Yuffie. I am proud of you. You've made all of Wutai proud. And your mother would be, too."

Yuffie smiled. "You think so?" She asked.

"I know so."

"Thanks, old man."

He rolled his eyes. "You're welcome, you egomaniac."


	4. Hell

This was yesterday's drabble. Sorry! I repaired my game and got all distracted. Ugh. Another'll be uploaded before 12 EST! PROMISE!

* * *

Tifa ran up the mountain as if Hell was coming to get her. Her boots thudded against the ground rapidly as she sprinted up the incline, gloved hands curled into tight fists. Nibelheim was in flames; ruined. Hope was lost in her hometown, but her teacher, Zangan, could save the ones left alive, she knew. If she could just hurry, maybe, just maybe, she could prevent another life from returning to the Lifestream today.

She dodged the odd monster every now and then, ignoring them. After ten minutes of running at top speed, silently thanking every god in existence for her stamina, the Mako reactor came into view. Surpressing the elated cry, she picked her pace up only to slow down into a jog as she spotted a figure lying limp on the dirt right before the stairs. Those clothes... She knew them!

Letting out a cry, Tifa ran towards the person, her father. She dropped to her knees, pulling his upper body onto her lap. "Papa?! Papa!" She looked wildly around his body for injuries. A long slash carved his chest. "Sephiroth?! Sephiroth did this to you, didn't he?!" She cried, grabbing his wrist in her right hand. Holding it up, she let the wrist go. Please stay up, please stay up, please stay up... She begged silently.

His arm fell back down onto his chest.

Her face broke, tears spilling unchecked out of her eyes as she let out a cry of anguish, holding her father tightly. For a minute, she sobbed openly, whispering her father's name over and over. Then, as suddenly as it started, she stopped, lifting her head to stare ahead of her. Sephiroth's sword stuck out of the ground, blood running down the blade. Her father's blood. A wave of rage crept over the monk. Looking down at her father, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and stood, walking slowly, purposely towards the sword.

"Sephiroth... SOLDIER... Mako Reactors... Shinra... Everything!" She exclaimed, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of the blade, and wrenching it out of the ground with inhuman strength. Tifa slashed the air with the sword using one arm, expelling the blood from the long blade. "I hate them all!" She screamed, looking up at the sky as tears spilled once more. Turning, she rushed up the stairs into the Mako reactor. To Sephiroth. To revenge, even if it meant her life.


	5. Toothpaste

This is based, more or less, on a real-life experience.

* * *

A scowl marred Marlene Wallace's pretty face as she half-walked, half-stomped her way down the stairs into the Seventh Heaven's bar area. In one hand was a plastic disk case, in the other a small piece of cloth. She walked up to the bar and hoisted herself up onto the stool, propping her chin up onto her palms. There she let out a mournful sigh.

Tifa, cleaning a glass at the time, looked over to her. "Marlene, what's wrong?" She asked, setting the now dried and clean glass down on the counter, ready to be used with another customer.

Marlene lifted her head, looking at the CD case. "I let Denzel borrow my game papa bought for me... He got it all scratched! Now it won't work. Papa'll be upset; he spent two hundred gil on it!" She exclaimed, waving her arms in an almost Yuffie-ish fashion. Tifa smiled and took the case from Marlene's hand, opening it. She popped the CD out, holding it with her index finger in the center, thumb and ring finger on the outer rim, pinkie held in the air. She examined the surface, frowning at the scratches and smudges on the surface.

"Well, this could be a problem. Have you tried washing it with a gentle liquid soap?" She asked, looking at Marlene. The little girl nodded. "Hm..."

"You should get it professionally resurfaced," came a deep voice behind the girls. Tifa jumped in surprise as Marlene turned around, a grin breaking out onto her face. "Vincent!" Sure enough, Vincent Valentine stood in the doorway, watching impassively as Marlene waved. He nodded in her direction.

Another voice yelled from behind Vincent, "Don't listen to the old man! Just put some toothpaste on it!" Yuffie breezed past Vincent, plopping down on a stool beside Marlene. She took the disk and stared intently, almost judging. After a few moments, she smirked. "Yep. Shallow enough to work. C'mon!" She hopped off, all but dragging Tifa and Marlene upstairs and into the bathroom with Vincent following behind like a wraith.

With Tifa and Marlene standing on either side of her—Vincent standing in the doorway—Yuffie took a tube of toothpaste from beside the sink. "Okay, watch," she said, holding the disk the same way Tifa did. Popping the cap off of the tube with a flick of her thumb, she squeezed out a generous amount onto the scratched surface of the disk and set the tube down, rubbing the paste onto the disk with her free thumb. Once it was spread out evenly, or evenly enough, she set it down, toothpaste side up, on the counter and looked to Marlene and Tifa, switching glances as she spoke.

"Okay, you get tooth paste on the disk, spreading it as I did, and you let it sit for five minutes. The toothpaste wears down the plastic enough until the scratches are less deep. Or something. I dunno, really. Pops explained it when I was little, kinda forget," she said, smiling almost sheepishly.

"Yuffie," Vincent said, breaking in, "you don't actually expect it to work, right?"

The Wutaian shinobi glared at him. "How can you say that? I speak from personal experience! Of COURSE I expect it to work. It's done it before." She pouted before childishly sticking her tongue out at the normally quiet man.

Vincent looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at her, but seemed to think better of it and shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see."

Five minutes later, spent playing cards when Marlene ran of the room to grab the deck, Yuffie turned the sink back on and began to wash the toothpaste off of the disk, rubbing her thumb across it in a circular motion, humming to herself. "Let's see if it works," she said, running off to the room Marlene shared with Denzel whenever she spent the night. She sat down on the ground and dried the disk on her shirt. Pressing the button to turn the disk on, she placed it on the tray, pressed the 'on' button and sat back. The screen was black for a few seconds before music started playing, a loading screen appearing before the menu faded in. She grinned up at Vincent.

After a few seconds of holding her gaze, he looked at the TV. "You must have been one hell of a child to be speaking from experience..."

Yuffie stuck her tongue out at him. "Jerk."


	6. Gospel

Uh. Yessu. I actually wrote something in first person. Oh, ho. It must suck. I started writing and didn't stop! Read it over a couple times, edited run-ons, spell checked and glued myself to Youtube as I rewatched Aerith's death scene over and over despite JUST getting past it. Yep, I'm quick since I just restarted. Ugh, anyway. Please disregard this. The ramblings of a night owl. I'll come up with a first person response to Aerith's funeral next! Dunno whose it'll be in. PLEASE HELP WITH THE INDECISION!

* * *

The sound of water trickling into the more larger pool surrounding the alter reached my ears as I knelt, hands folded in traditional prayer. It probably didn't matter how I positioned myself, but, it seemed the right thing to do. I was praying after-all. I must have been there all night, though I couldn't tell. This part of the Forgotten City was underground.

People were coming, I could tell. Cloud and the others. I almost smiled at that thought, but pushed it away; I needed to do this first, but the feeling that swept through me knowing they were coming left me feeling warm inside. All the more reason to pray harder. Pray for them. Those eight people whom I became so close with were worth using my mother's materia, hidden in the folds of my hair ribbon.

It took all my self control not to open my eyes and turn around as I heard Cloud say, "No, stay here, Yuffie." I did, however, smile very softly at that. Yuffie was such a sweet girl. A little too materialistic, but, still sweet. I could hear Cid and Barret whispering to eachother, wondering what I was doing. The sounds of soft grunts and boots hitting stone told me Cloud was jumping the pillars to get to me. _Cloud..._

Then, the shouts of protest of "Cloud!" and "Stop it!" came from the others. Cloud had drawn his sword, poised to strike me. Sephiroth, are you here? Are you doing this? Or is it JENOVA? I wasn't surprised when I didn't feel Cloud's Buster Sword strike me. The SOLDIER had a strong will, he wouldn't kill me.

_"Ugh ... what are you making me do," Cloud whispered._

I opened my eyes, lifting my head and stared at the blond infront of me. He stared right back, the light reflecting off the pool of water casting a strange pattern across his face. A bright light fell from the sky over me and I knew I had completed my prayer for Holy. I smiled, out of happiness or relief, I did not know. Perhaps both, really.

But, the relief was not to remain. Something obscured the light above me, like a person falling. I knew instantly that it was Sephiroth, his sword posed to strike me. It didn't come as a surprise, I knew he would be the one to kill me. And, it didn't really matter. I called Holy. It was going to save the Planet and my friends. It was enough. The white hot pain that followed being impaled through the back came and I let out a sharp gasp of pain, my arms falling from their prayer position.

I heard a scream from Tifa, yells of surprise and anger from Barret and Cid, a horrified gasp from Yuffie, a growl of shock from Red and a hiss of sorts from Cait Sith version two. I am so very sorry you guys had to see this... I grunted in pain as Sephiroth slowly pulled the sword from me and fell forward. My ribbon came loose and the materia, seemingly wanting to hide itself, fell from its safe place. The sounds of it hitting against the stone alter and pillars reached me and I smiled as it splashed in the water. I knew it was glowing.

Feeling my life slip away as I laid on my belly, arms cushioning my chin from the fall, I smiled. I was not afraid. Though with my death, the Cetra race ends. But, I have no regrets. With the ending of my life comes the dawn of salvation. Sephiroth's plan will fail. Cloud and the others will kill him, and Holy will prevent Meteor from falling if they do not kill him in time.

Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Vincent, Cait... Please live. Live for me. Do not despair, I am going to the Promised Land. I'll see my mother, my father, Zack... I'm ready.

Thank you all so very much...


	7. Men

Very belated. Two more're coming up sometime tonight.

* * *

_Boys will be boys_, Elena thought as she sprawled out on the beach towel, breasts cushioning her. Three years since the fall of meteor and the Turks, plus Rufus Shinra, were finally taking a well deserved vacation at Costa del Sol. She smiled faintly, crossing her arms and resting her head on them. More than once today she had to bite down the yelps of cold water thrown on her, the sand in her hair, and revealed backsides of her semi-former coworkers. The memory of seeing a rather white backside of Rufus Shinra caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. Okay, admittingly, he had a nice butt.

Seeing Reno's frontsides, however, caused her to screech and rush off in a panic, face brighter than a cherry and only return to the area on the beach where they were resting when Tseng came to bring her back, flushing himself. She grinned into her arm, resisting the urge to laugh outloud.

"Hey, 'lena!" A voice yelled, and a shadow formed, blocking out her sun. She wrinkled her brow. "C'mon! Let's try to drown Rude!"

Elena groaned, rolling over onto her back, one arm moving to rest over her eyes and protect them from the sun. "Go away, Reno. You're annoying. Go flirt with someone." Silence fell over the pair for a few moments. She almost smiled when she thought he wandered off to find some unsuspecting busty blonde to talk to. She screamed, however, when she felt rough skinned fingers play with the bow that held her bikini top together which conveniently was placed right between her breasts. Sitting up quickly, Elena threw a blind, tight fisted punch straight into Reno's face.

"Ah, Jesus!" He yelled, toppling over onto someone's lap. He rubbed his cheek bone vigorously for a few moments, dulling the pain before he glared at Elena. "Goddamn, woman! Where are you hiding that strength?! You got skinny-ass arms."

Beet red, she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring figurative daggers at Reno. "Think Lockhart's the only one with strength and looks, you are sorely mistaken.

Reno's brows rose almost to his hairline. "Yeesh, if looks could kill..."

A rumbling of laughter from a chest met his back. "If looks could kill, Reno, you'd be dead years ago."

With a yelp, Reno turned his head and came face to face with the white clad man. "Ah, shit. Sorry, boss," he said, grinning nervously. "Thought I landed on Tseng."

"And it would be better that you landed in mine?" came Tseng's growl. Reno looked over at the Wutaian and shrugged. Tseng shook his head, reclining back in his chair underneath the umbrella.

A few moments of silence descended. "Would you mind getting off of me, Reno?"

"No way, your lap is comfortable."

_Mhm. Boys will be boys even when they're men._


	8. Stages

I ended up putting it in Tseng's POV. He was in the hospital around when Aerith died... SO he learned about it from Reeve. Mm.

* * *

I stared blankly at the white sheets that covered my lap. Aerith? Dead? Wow... I had to admit, I would have never expected her to die. She was always so happy when we were children. It seemed blasphemy to even contemplate her demise. The Gods must be laughing at me now for thinking such childish thoughts. All life began and ended. There was no stopping it. You are born and you will die. It was just a matter of time and how you die.

Aerith, the cheerful Cetra, being stabbed to death by the maniac Sephiroth did not even register as a possibility in my mind. I felt sick, suddenly, and grabbed a basin, emptying the contents from my stomach into the metal bowl, grimacing at the horribly bitter taste in my mouth. I reached over onto the hospital table and took the plastic cup of cold water Elena left for me, took a sip, swirled it in my mouth and spat it back out into the basin. I set the basin back down where it was before I picked it up, forgetting it instantly.

_How could let him kill her, Strife?_ I thought, sudden anger lacing through me. Someone once told me that sometimes you feel misplaced anger towards someone who was near a person who died when I lost my first Turk. Misplaced anger? Was it really that misplaced? I didn't know. Stages of grieving were a bitch, as Reno would have put it. Almost unconsciously, I scratched the back of my head, a move I picked up from someone when they were stressed out. A lock of my black hair fell infront of my face, making me wish I would have kept it in a ponytail from five years ago.

I let out a breath that I wasn't aware I was holding in. Reeve personally came to me and told me of her death, not sending one of his puppets. I'd have to thank him for that, telling it to me in person. Maybe I should go with him to tell Aerith's mother about her death. Yea... I owe it to her mother to tell her. This is my fault, really. I must have put forward the chain of events that eventually led to this. I must have.

But, it didn't matter. Feeling guilty wouldn't bring Aerith back. Nothing would. The beautiful young woman was dead, returning to the Planet. That thought warmed me slightly. Aerith wouldn't be alone. Her birth parents died and returned to the Planet... Yea. She would be with her family. Reaching over to grab my cell phone, I keyed in Reeve's number and held it to my ear.

_"Hey, Reeve? Yea, it's Tseng... Listen, could you wait a few before you tell Elmyra about Aerith? I... I want to be there."_


	9. Smile

Late. Latelatelate. I think I'm three stories behind. Eh, I'll fix that tonight. Nothing else to do. Ending line is from a Smashing Pumpkins song, "Disarm." I was listening to it while writing. Wow.

* * *

I know she's smiling at me, I can almost feel it. My back is to her and she's just smiling. It's a pleasant feeling, albeit disconcerting that I know she's smiling at me despite not facing her. At least she's happy about my being home.

Turning around, I do, in fact, see her smiling. Her face lights up, colour rising to her cheeks, when she realizes she was caught. I chuckle softly, shaking my head. She realizes that I knew she was smiling and wanted to startle her when she spots my slight smirk.

"Oh, Cloud!" She says, raising her fist in mock threat. I grin even more at that. "You're so..." She trails off, not able to find the right word to describe me.

I chuckle again. "Can't think of a word, Tifa?" I ask, drawling the sentence out.

Flustered, she sticks her tongue out at me in a last minute effort to save her dignity. Little does she know that _that_ was what amused me most. She shakes her head and laughs, seeing the mistake. "You're insufferable. Just like you were when we were in school."

"Maybe," I say.

Tifa smils. "You still look so cute with your chocobo hair."

I flush, rubbing the back of my neck and averting my eyes. "Yea, well..."

"At least you grew some. Now, your hair isn't taller than you," Tifa says, bursting into laughter at my probably-comic expression and runs upstairs to safety.

"Tifa!" I yell, chasing after her, laughing all the way.

"_I'll send this smile over to you..."_


	10. Safe

Pre!Ending FFVII, very beginning of DoC. Semi-related one next, Yuffie and Reeve.

* * *

Running up the broken stairs, he turned down another debris filled hallway. Somewhere in this mess was Rufus Shinra. And for the past hour, he ran through the remains of five rooms he knew Rufus would have been in. Metal scraps and the cement from what-the-hell-ever cut into his jacket and pants, more often than not into his flesh as well. On top of that, an ungodly amount of dust managed to collect itself into his red hair. 

He gave an angry sort of snort, turning up another stairwell. Rufus had damn well better be in this room. The chances of him being alive after Diamond WEAPON's attack seemed pretty slim. But, damnit, Rufus deserved a proper funeral if he did die. But— "Guh, fuck, stop thinking that. That fucker would laugh at Death and shoot him with that damn shotgun and get back to his paperwork."

Reno scowled, stopping to rest at the top of the stairs. He leaned forwards, resting his hands on his knees and drew deep breaths. Can't pass out of exhaustion before saving the president, right? Drawing another deep breath, he ran off again, almost tripping over his feet in the process. _Note to self: Stand up straight before running_.

After a few minutes of running around almost blindly, he reached his designation. "Aw, shit!" He yelled, seeing the debris in his way. Reno groaned and began almost ripping the rocks from the places, an almost desperate feeling washing over him. Shitshitshit. Rufus, you better be alive in there. He spent another five minutes digging his way through the mess only to be rewarded with a tackle from a very frightened, but still protective Dark Nation.

"Shit!" He swore, glaring up at the dark furred creature while clutching at his heart. "Stupid mutt. Scared the shit out of me. And get off, it's _me_." Reno pushed it off of him, sighing. "Rufus okay?" He asked, almost expecting a verbal reply from those intelligent eyes. It leaned down, taking the end of Reno's torn pantleg in it's teeth and gave a tug. Shaking his head, he stood. "All right, all right," he said, running his fingers through the dark fur on it's head. "Show me where he is."

Dark Nation gave an odd sound between a bark and a meow, leading the Turk towards it's master. Just beyond the charred remains of Rufus Shinra's desk lay the battered, unconscious but still very much alive president. Reno felt his heart and stomach give a strange lurch as he knelt beside him, reached out and was startled by the resistance his hand gave four inches away from Rufus' neck. He blinked and looked to Dark Nation. "You little rat. You've been casting barrier on him, haven't you?" Reno gave a startled, amused laugh. "Good boy, Nation," he said, rubbing Dark Nation's head.

Once the barrier spell dissipated, Reno pulled Rufus onto his lap, brushing away his long bangs. "You certainly living up to your rumor, Mr. Shinra," he said, wiping some of the dirt and dust from his face. "Despite all this, you're not bleeding." Lifting him up slightly, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his hair. Dark Nation rested it's head on Rufus' lap, looking up at Reno with it's intelligent eyes. Reno sighed. "What am I going to do with you two."


	11. Process

You know, I have no bigger picture with these things, with hurts. I need some inspiration. Anyone wanna post a character and a situation and get a fic dedication to them!? D

* * *

"Yo, Reeve," came the static-y voice of the Wutaian ninja over the radio. "Where the hell are you?"

Reeve Tuesti rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine come on. He needed to clear out the Shinra building and evacuate Midgar before Meteor fell. With Yuffie and Vincent helping, things were speeding up. Yuffie was supervising the emergency team, often yelling at them to get their "asses in gear," while Vincent found the trapped employees inside the demolished building. Reeve, however, was stuck telling people to leave their homes and to find shelter in either the slums or Kalm. Surprisingly enough, they listened.

He sighed. "I'm on my way, Yuffie." And he was. In style. The manager rode in one of the helicopters that transported injured people to and from the hospitals in the slums. Reeve placed his head on the palms of his hands, waiting for the jolt as the helicopter landed. He didn't like heights, but at least he wasn't motion sick like Yuffie was. And thank the Cetra he wasn't on the helicopter that brought her to the building. He could just imagine her retching, trying to keep her food down while failing at it.

The helicopter jolted and the door was opened. Reeve unbuckled himself and stepped off of it, walking towards where he saw Yuffie Kisaragi, waving her arms around angrily and yell orders. "Yuffie, what happened?"

She spun around, glaring at him and poking him on the chest. "Your morons dropped someone! The poor woman was, like, bleeding from a head wound and they dropped her! Couldn't you Shinra people afford decent help?" She ranted.

Reeve chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "No one has expected something this bad would ever happen. Our EMT's are only a handful of people. The Shinra building isn't the only building damaged in Diamond WEAPON's attack. And—Hey, is that Rufus Shinra?" He asked, looking over at the dusty, little worse for wear body of his president. Well, former president.

"Huh? Oh, yea. Reno found him," Yuffie said, pointing over at the red haired Turk who sat about twenty feet away, an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. A strange... cat/dog hybrid lay at his feet, tail(s) swishing against the dirty ground.

"I'm surprised. The attack struck Rufus' office the hardest. He doesn't even look like he's injured," Reeve remarked, admiring Rufus' resilience.

Yuffie snorted. "Yea, well, apparently the little fur-ball," she gestured to Dark Nation, "cast a perfectly timed barrier spell and kept casting it until Reno showed up." She shrugged her small shoulders, not caring whether Rufus Shinra was alive or not.

Reeve gave her shoulder a squeeze and smiled. "I need to check on the evacuations, okay? You and Vincent take care of things here." At her nod, he turned and headed back to the quickly filling helicopters. Two technicians picked up Rufus on the portable gurney and almost smiled at Yuffie's yell of, "Come on, hurry up! And try not to drop anyone this time!"


	12. Maiden

Damn, I wonder if I can still call this a drabble. It's slightly over 1,000 words. But, whatever. I couldn't stop. Who cares. It's my stuff. Ahhh, this is for my lovely Biskitty, who is been faithfully reviewing and such. Such a sweet girl. She wanted the pairing and she gets it! (I don't know how **this **came to be, though. _Kinda _zoned out while writing.)

* * *

After Meteor fell, three weeks rolled by smoothly considering the circumstances. AVALANCHE went their separate ways, back to their loved ones. Or somewhere they were comfortable with. Cid to Rocket Town, Vincent to ... somewhere, Yuffie to Wutai. Cait Sith, Barret, Cloud and Tifa returned to the ruins of Midgar and prepared to deal with the horrific damage caused by Meteor and Holy.

Tifa and Cloud took a brief break, heading towards Gongaga to inform, officially, Mister and Missus Fair about their son, Zack's demise. Mrs. Fair burst into tears, clinging to her husband who looked like a piece of himself was brutally ripped away. Cloud was silent during most of it, arms wrapped around himself. He wasn't sure if telling the Fair's that their son died saving his life. Would they be proud or angry that Zack died while Cloud lived? He kept silent while Tifa shuffled her feet, tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto the hard wood floor of the Fair residence.

An hour after that, the two friends were, somehow, lost in the Gongaga forest. Aside from the odd monster that appeared, there was no trouble. 'cept they were lost. Wonderful. Tifa turned her wine coloured eyes to Cloud, a thin eyebrow arched. "Well, Cloud. I believe we are very lost," she said, lifting her gloved hand and biting down on the leather covering her knuckles. A nervous habit she picked up since she was little.

Cloud nodded, scowling slightly. "Yea, we're lost. How'd that happen?"

She smiled, biting down the amused giggle that threatened to erupt from her. "I think we should just walk in a straight line, Cloud. We'll eventually end up getting out."

"Yea, next week," the blond said, glaring at the offending forest. This time Tifa did laugh, prompting a smile from Cloud. He shook his head, spiked bangs brushing against his forehead. "Yea, we're screwed."

"Oh, come on. Don't be such a pessimist! And—oh! A Touch Me!" Tifa said, pointing.

Cloud nearly choked at the choice of words before it hit him. A Touch Me was the name of one of the monsters in the Gongaga forest. Frog-shaped, bouncy and rather weak. He cocked his head, following her gaze. There, two Touch Me frog-things hopped, agitated that their territory was being disturbed by two humans. He sighed. "Think we'll have to fight them?" He asked, looking to Tifa.

Tifa shrugged. "Most likely. They're pretty territorial, despite their size and strength," she said, sighing. Making sure the Premium Heart was properly fitted onto her hands, she bent her knees in a fighting stance as Cloud drew the large, white and blue Ultima Weapon. "Ha!" She cried, rushing forwards, placing a well aimed punch/kick combo on the larger of the two Touch Me's. The frog gave a cry of protest and fell over, dead.

The remaining one seemed angrier than before, hopping forwards and punching Cloud hard in the belly. The not-ex-SOLDIER made a strange sound and vanished, a nearly identical frog in his place. Tifa blinked, then remembered the Touch Me's had an attack that could turn their opponent into a frog. She almost smirked when Cloud-Frog bounced in the air in protest.

"Sorry, Cloud," said Tifa, dispatching with the frog before it could turn her into a frog as well. When the frog fell over, vanishing in a flash of red light, she turned her attention to the bouncing Cloud-Frog. He seemed agraveted, annoyed, and humiliated. "Um, sorry, Cloud," she said, kneeling beside the still hopping Cloud-Frog. "I don't have any Maiden's Kisses. You should have worn the Ribbon Yuffie morphed."

Cloud-Frog hopped twice, croaking. She took it as he was thinking the same thing.

Tifa bit her knuckle, watching the Cloud-Frog closely. "Hm... I could carry you back to Gongaga and buy some Maiden's Kisses, but, we might end up heading back _out_ of the forest, in the opposite direction." She almost laughed at the irony.

Another hop and another croak. If anyone caught wind of her being able to understand what in Gaia Cloud-Frog said, she'd never live it down. "Alright, how about this. I'm not married, so, I'm still considered a maiden. So, if I kissed the top of your head, you'd... probably turn back to you, right?" Cloud-Frog seemed to nod, pleased with Tifa's quick thinking. She smiled, holding out her hand for Cloud-Frog to hop into. Lifting him up, she pressed her lips against the top of Cloud-Frog's skin-covered head.

The reaction was instantaneous. A tremendous weight appeared on her hand and she had to drop the Cloud-Frog—Cloud?—to save her hand from being crushed. That wasn't the shocking part, however. Where the Cloud-Frog's head used to be was normal-Cloud's lips. And hers were still against his. Her eyes were wide, stunned into speechlessness.

Cloud seemed just as surprised. He fell over onto his backside—not a far drop considering he was kneeling—and stared up in surprise at Tifa. Oddly enough, his thoughts weren't on the fact that they kissed. Nope. Their first kiss was when he was a _frog_?! Thank every god in existance for the fact that no one else was around to see him as a frog, or having his first kiss with Tifa be _as_ the frog.

Blinking her eyes, Tifa felt her cheeks go aflame. "I, uh—Heh, heh..." She trailed off, blushing more than she ever did in her life. Laughing nervously, she inspected the dirt of the forest floor that became oh-so-very interesting. Hey, a leaf!

"Uh..." Cloud said eloquently, rubbing the back of his neck. "Heh. At least it worked, right?"

Tifa nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She had a sneaking suspision that is she did, she'd have a squeaky voice. That would be the metaphorical straw that broke the camel's back.

Clearing his throat, Cloud stood and brushed the dirt off his pants, offering his hand down to Tifa to help her up. "Shall we, uh, head back to the buggy?" He asked, knowing the answer. Tifa nodded jerkily, taking his hand and standing. While she was still quiet, Cloud notes with pleasure, she held his hand until the buggy came into view.

_Three _hours later.


	13. Fool

This, uh, was written while I had "Planet Hell," by Nightwish on repeat. For my lovely friend Kei who plays one hell of a Reno.

* * *

_"You fool, you wanderer. You challenged the Gods and lost."_

It all happened so fast. Cliché, I know. But, it did. Rude and I were playing poker, Rufus was reading a book with his sheet-thing down. There really was nothing wrong with him aside from the Geostigma rot above his left eye, neck, and hand. Well, there was the occasional body wracking pains. Aside from those, nothin'. Diamond WEAPON's attack wounds healed in a month. The sheet and wheelchair were part of his plan. And, damn, was it a good one.

Well, yea. Anyway. There was a knock at the door. Rude and I exchanged a glance, setting our cards down while Rufus replaced his hood, giving us a nod. I rolled my eyes and stood, pushing my chair under the table and headed towards the door. "Strife, you better be finished," I muttered, opening the door. And stopped dead in my tracks.

I frowned. A teenager stood before me, clad in black leather. I opened my mouth to tell him to go away, and stopped, taking in his appearance. He had shoulder length silver hair parted to the side, form fitting black body suit, and green eyes filled with malicious intent. I could pretty much hear the wheels turning in my head as my brain tried to pit the pieces of some puzzle together. Black leather, silver hair, green eyes. That was the last transmission from Tseng and Elena, warning us of their captors. "Shit," I swore, slamming the door in his face. _Right,_ I thought_, like that would really help us._

Rude seemed to have gotten the message since he was now standing up, body going rigid in a fighting stance. I took my place beside Rufus, grabbing my Electro-Mag rod along the way.

The door creaked open and there stood Kadaj, I presumed. He was smirking, amused at something only he knew 'cause this sure as hell wasn't amusing to us. He dispatched with Rude first, grabbing his arm and flipping him, slamming him against the floor with enough force I was surprised he hadn't broken Rude's back. Rude groaned in obvious pain before blacking out.

I yelled, charging towards this brat yelling, "Where the hell are Tseng and Elena?!"

When he struck me in the stomach, I keeled over in pain. What the fuck? This kid, no older than Elena, punched with more strength than Tifa, a martial artist of twenty-one, at the time of our fights, who trained for years. God, I didn't even want to imagine what he would do with that sword strapped to his back. Growling, I tried to smack him with the taser end of the EMR, only to have it knocked clean out of my hand and across the door where it rolled helplessly towards Rufus. Kadaj struck me in the face, fracturing my cheek bone before bringing his knee to my stomach. With a groan, I collapsed to the floor.

What the hell was the only thought going through my head that made it past the pain. Who was this kid? The wheels in my head kept spinning, piecing together that puzzle. Then stopped. A wave of horror washed over me as I realized what the picture was. What was he, Cloud once asked. We didn't know the answer, honestly. Now I did. This kid, this teenager with the malicious eyes was a Sephiroth clone. A fucking complete one. A shuddering gasp ripped through me as I looked to Rufus, my mouth open to tell him of my discovery.

"Boss, he's—UGH!" I gasped when Kadaj delivered a kick against my ribcage. I felt the bones that protected my most vital of organs break in protest under the strength of that blow. Forget telling Rufus, I couldn't even make a sound other than my pathetic moans of pain. Out of my nearly blackened vision I saw Rude rise to his feet and rush at Kadaj only to be struck down.

In horror I realized Rufus was now defenseless, his shotgun in the other room. "I really hate liars," Kadaj was saying as he walked towards my president.

Is this how Tseng felt when he came face to face with Sephiroth? Is this how it felt to challenge a god incarnate? If I lived to see tomorrow, I would never laugh at Tseng again, for any reason. To survive against Sephiroth, someone I only considered an overrated psycho with an Oedipus complex, is incredible now. Strife, you're in for one hell of a fight, I thought as I slipped into the merciful blackness of unconsciousness.


	14. Forgiveness

Because English in summer school is a crash course that I'm sailing by in, I wrote several subplots for Project 365 while listening to a lecture about, um, some story. To Build A Fire, I think. Eh, anyway. This is set post-DoC.

* * *

With her hands folded on her lap, legs crossed in pseudo-meditation, Yuffie Kisaragi studied the inhabitants of Tifa's Seventh Heaven, eyes closed. Tifa was near her, washing dishes and speaking to costumers, filling orders and such. Cloud was in his room, working on the route of the quickest way to his next designation. Shelke was in the living room speaking to Nanaki, otherwise referred to as Red XIII. Marlene and Denzel were playing infront of the bar with one of their friends. Cid and Barret were working on a new machine to harness the power of oil, something Yuffie rolled her eyes at. Right, like those two'll _really _get any work done. Cait Sith and Reeve were watching TV and sleeping respectively. Vincent was...

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clink.

...right infront of her. She opened her eyes and, sure enough, the stoic gunslinger was staring down at her with his garnet eyes. Grinning sheepishly, she gave him a slight wave. "Hey, Vince. I know you wanna talk to a babe like me, but, I'm practicing my information gathering skills. My old man has some work for me to do when I get back home."

The ex-Turk arched a brow. "Yes, I, I'll leave you to that, then," he said, turning.

"Whoa, wait!" Yuffie reached out, grabbing his gauntlet'd hand with both of hers. When he turned back, she grinned. "I'm kidding, Vince. You know I have time for you."

"Right," Vincent said, taking back his hand when Yuffie dropped hers back to her lap. He stared down at her, as if considering how to word something. After several long, almost awkward moments, he spoke up. "I wanted to apologize for what happened back in Mako Reactor Zero, with Nero."

Yuffie frowned. "With what happened with Nero?" _Which part? _she added in her head.

"When he pulled you into his darkness," Vincent clarified.

An expression of realization washed over her. "_Oh_, right. That. Why're you apologizing?" She arched her thin brow at him.

He sighed, sitting down next to her as if the strength in his legs gave out. "For not preventing it. What happened, it must have been horrible for you to black out like how you did," he said, staring down at his lap.

Giving an un-feminine snort, Yuffie smacked him upside the head. "Jeez, Vincent," she said. "You really do blame yourself for everything, don't you." It wasn't a question, so he kept silent. "Listen," she said, turning bodily towards him. "Not that you did anything wrong, but, Vince, I forgave you the _second_ you pulled me out of there." Standing, she gave him a grin that reached to her eyes and beyond. "Besides, you can't prevent everything bad that happens. Now, I'm gonna ignore you until you get that through your head. All right?" Turning with a smile, she bounded off to bother Cait Sith and Reeve, leaving Vincent to his thoughts.

With his ungauntlet'd hand resting against the place Yuffie stuck, he felt the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Perhaps... Perhaps she was right.


	15. Alcohol

You guys wanna know my secret to good characterizations? I learn by reading and, well, FFVII is in text. I can imprint personalities in my brain the first time I read it. Hehe. This is post-game, sometime. PS: Tried to write without the use of names. And, no. I don't know the name of their drinks. I made 'em up?

* * *

"Give me something hard," he said, sitting down sharply and dropping his chin to the countertop with enough force to rattle his teeth and bruise the skin. Blond spikes of hair drifted over his eyes, almost accenting just how tired their owner was. Shoulders slumped, limbs limp, eyes glazed.

She smiled sympathetically, handing him a shot of his favorite drink; a clear brown liquid that went down with a burn, giving the drinker an insta-buzz. Reaching under the counter, she produced another shot glass and filled it with her own favorite drink; clear blue, soft burn, would require several shots for intoxication. When he downed his shot, she refilled his glass.

Exhaling sharply, he drank the second shot and placed his hand over the mouth of the glass, signaling her to cease pouring the drink. He yawned suddenly, unable to stifle it or cover his mouth until the near end of it. Flushing, he averted his gaze back to the shot glass, drops of the alcohol sliding down the interior glass.

Giggling, she placed her hand on his blond head, fingers sliding through his beautiful, and rather original, hair with ease. "Tired?" She asked, already knowing the answer, but still wanting to tease him a little. When he gave a snort, she pulled her hand back and laughed. "Sorry, sorry. I couldn't refuse." He smiled and she felt her heart soar, pleased that she could cheer him up even when he's tired. "How about you get some sleep, then?"

"I guess," he said, standing and pushing the barstool under the counter.

"Ah, wait!" She said, reaching over the counter to grab his arm—a difficult feat due to her height and the distance, something she resolved by pressing her belly against the surface, feet hanging six inches from the floor. When he moved closer to the counter so she could drop to the floor, he arched a brow in questioning. She flushed and leaned up on her toed boots, pressing a kiss against his recently shaven cheek, catching a wiff of his after shave. "Good night," she said, a healthy blush on her cheeks.

He smiled. "Good night," he said, heading up the stairs to his bedroom.

Smiling happily to herself, she worked the blush off by cleaning their shot glasses and humming to herself.


	16. Icarus

Rufus-centered chapter. Rufus was revealed to be staying in Junon pre-FFVII. **Really** short. Internal conflict that I really couldn't make any longer than it is.

* * *

They found him similar to Icarus, a man in mythology who, on wings made of wax, flew too close to the sun, melting the wax and causing him to fall to his death. There was some similarities, he supposed, especially after the fall of Meteor. Ambition. Icarus' ambition to fly caused him to, eventually, die. The Shinra family's ambition to rule ultimately led to their inevitable fall.

It's funny, really. How they were so happy to live easy lives before people finally learned the impact of mako extraction would have on the planet, now scorning the very name of Shinra. Then again, he supposed, he really didn't help to make matters easier for the company. Rufus Shinra had his father's ambition, though on a grander scale. He wanted the same things, but he had planned to go about things completely differently. Shinra senior ruled by money. Rufus ruled by fear.

If he knew back then what he knew now, he might not have ever left Junon. Would that make him a coward, he did not know. Perhaps, but self-preservation had always been his top priority. Damn everyone else, take care of yourself first and foremost. Now, sitting in the hospital bed, staring out of the window at the world below his room, he didn't care if another round with Meteor struck the very room he lied in. All he knew is he wanted to sleep for a year, undisturbed.


	17. Reason

Set during the gap between disk two and disk three. You know the one. **Edit**: Oops. Seemed I got a little update-happy. This is actually the fic for tomorrow, apparently. So, sorry, you won't be getting one tomorrow! And, everyone, wish my dad luck. He's going in for spinal surgery tomorrow, though he left today.

* * *

"Urk!" Clamping her hand over her mouth, she swallowed the bile that rose to the back of her throat. Damn! Cid and his frickin' curiousity. Who the hell pulls a lever that they didn't know what it was?! Coulda been a self-destruct thing for all he knew. Coulda blown everyone to smitherines. He was damn lucky she was fighting down the urge to empty her stomach contents all over his precious damn air-ship.

The sound of metal hitting metal brought her head up. The freaky-looking, coffin-sleeping Vincent "Creepy" Valentine was walking by her. Thoughts of _"Oh, shit, he's here!" _and_ "I wonder what he would look like without that tattered-ass cape" _swam through her mind. Swallowing hard, for both nervous reasons and to keep herself from vomiting over his neat shoes, she gave him a wave. "Hey, Vincent. Question!"

Turning his garnet eyes towards the small girl, he raised a brow. "Yes, Yuffie?" He asked, voice deep and almost-calming.

"How come your stayin'? Not that I mind or anything, ya know," she added.

He was quiet for several very long moments, long enough to make Yuffie think he hadn't heard her or was insulted. Finally, he said, "I suppose because I feel guilty. Sephiroth is Lucrecia and Hojo's child, something I should have been able to prevent. At least, the experiments. Experimenting on humans in inhumane and immoral anyway you look at it. I also believe Sephiroth should be allowed to properly return to the planet instead of surviving in the bodies of clones," he said, gazing thoughtfully at the boxes Yuffie always sat beside. "And yourself? Why would you risk your life for the sake of the planet?"

Yuffie snorted. "Not the planet. For Wutai. Though, I guess, in order to save Wutai I would have to save the planet, so, what the hell. Kill two birds with one stone, eh?" She grinned before promptly slamming a hand over her mouth, forcing her lunch to _stay_ where it was.

Vincent nodded. "A worthy cause. Never dedicate yourself to something that you don't believe in.

Looking up at him, she frowned. "You're talkative today, aren't ya?" She grinned. "Glad to know you're opening up to us, Vince."

"...Vince?" He asked, frowning down at her.

"Uh-huh." She wrapped her arms around her belly. "Pet name. Shows you that I care," she said, grinning. "You can call me Yuffs if you want. Some friends from Wutai call me that."

Shaking his head, he turned around. "No. You'll still be Yuffie whether I care or not," he said, walking back off to his corner of the cockpit.

For several moments, Yuffie considered those words. "You know what, I don't know if I should be insulted or not..."


	18. Blood

1000-themes cross post. Rosso. Short, sweet, and to the point. I think. I always wondered what went on in her head.

* * *

Blood. A beautiful, deep red colour. She loved it. It was the most amazing colour she'd ever experienced. No... The colour of blood against her pale skin was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Yes, she reveled in the killing of soldiers, both Deepground and WRO. She bathed in their blood. It's been many a year since she could remember her real hair colour. Was it brown? Black? She only knew it was dark. The blood had dyed both her hair and eyes. 

Blood was amazing. She ran her fingers across the liquid pooling beneath a deceased body of a WRO member, their own blood coating the floor and soaking into the grey and red uniform. Chuckling softly, she ran her finger tips along her chest, leaving red trail marks behind before the blood faded from her fingers and the lines faded from dark to light with the distance.

Everything about it was amazing. The texture, the colour, the smell, the sharp taste. Beautiful. Azul would laugh at her as she admired the blood on her clothes after a kill while Nero looked away, clearly uninterested, Shelke already heading back to their HQ. No, they would never understand her fixation. At least, they left her to her own devices.


	19. Darkness

1000-themes cross post. Since not much is known about Nero or the other Tsviets, I used a fanfic as a template, and my lovely imagination. Though, it is known that Nero killed his mother the moment he was born. Ages, if I remember correctly, are canon.

* * *

Darkness was his element, and black was his colour. Fitting. He was a blatent murderer, killing for the first time when he was only seconds old. Ever since he was old enough to understand, he knew that, when he was just a fetus, he was injected with the G-substance and, once he was born, his mother was sucked into his darkness. He smiled bitterly beneath his muzzle at that memory. It didn't matter. He would have been taken from her anyway. In his life of darkness, no one else mattered except his brother, Weiss. 

Weiss had raised him, protected him from those fucking doctors. Disgusting excuses for humans, he had always said. When they were children, Nero was taken once again to be experimented upon. Weiss was livid and broke Nero out of the hospital, returning him to their home. Four years older than his brother, Weiss would grow up to protect him from the other Deepground members, and eventually the Tsviets.

Then, the time came where Weiss no longer needed to protect Nero. He could control his powers now, at the age of twenty, as the members of Deepground fought for supplies. He, and he alone, knew what had happened in the above world. Something fell from the sky and destroyed the city. Eventually, they'd starve if they didn't get out. Under the leadership of Weiss, now 27, Deepground had finally escaped their doomed fate.

Once, when they were teenagers, Weiss had promised Nero he'd show him the sky. And he did. The world wasn't filled with darkness.


	20. Drug

1000-themes cross post. Last one! Some references in this are a pretense to my up and coming/on-going fanfic, _To Hell We Ride_. Not that much of a spoiler since it's, currently, within the first three-four pages of the first chapter. Whatever. UH, Reno made me blush while I wrote this. Baaaad, Reno.

* * *

Rufus Shinra was a drug. Not that Reno would ever admit it to the world, or even to himself, but, he was addicted to him. Every little thing Rufus did, Reno was fixated on. From the shuffling of papers, to the slight grimace on his countenance as he worked on rebuilding his empire with the help of Reeve Tuesti, to the twitch of his nose as a fresh cup of coffee was placed infront of him, to even the way he seemed completely comfortable in a white suit surrounded by people in black.

Yes, Rufus Shinra was a drug and Reno was hooked.

So, of course, he couldn't help but feel uneasy as Rufus climbed out of the river, soaking wet with freezing water with his white suit pressed against his skin and his blond hair pinned to his forehead and the rest of his face. Then again, seeing a normally cool and composed man degraded to a shivering, swearing, and something akin to a drowned rat was pretty funny. A grin cracked his face, erasing all his uneasiness.

However, that caused Rufus to explode in an embarressed rage. "Reno! Stupid Turk! Get over here and _help me_!!" He wrapped his arms around himself, bouncing up and down as quickly as he could without loosing his balance and falling back into the "cursed" river.

"Ehh... Chill out, boss," Reno said, grinning full toothed at him. "It's only a little water." Of course, he knew it wasn't just a little water.

"Fuck you!" Rufus spat, surprising Reno. He only swore when he was stressed. "It's freezing! I'm cold! Get over here, now!"

Laughing, Reno shook his head. "Hell no. You'll get me wet."

Scowling, the president of Neo-Shinra fumbled with the buttons of his over coat with shaking fingers. Quickly, once the buttons were undone, he tore off his coat and threw it at Reno, earning himself a surprised cry, and then stripped himself down to his white and black striped boxers which were, thank god, mostly dry.

Once Reno was successfully saved himself from the water logged coat, he tossed it on the ground and prepared to give Rufus an earfull. That is, until he saw Rufus in his boxers, water trailing down his pale chest to the hem of the boxers. Rufus' arms were still around his body, trying to keep the cold out and the heat in. His mouth fell open, but, he quickly closed it, hoping Rufus didn't see.

Nope. He didn't. Rufus was too cold to even know his own name. How did a simple mission to Icicle Inn turn into this? And how the hell did he fall into the river in the first place?! Goddamn spring, melting the river ice. "What're you still standing there for? Warm me!" He yelled at the dumbfounded Turk.

"...We have a blanket in the helicopter," Reno mumbled, both wanting to and not wanting to warm Rufus physically.

"The hell did you think I meant?" He asked, raising a brow. "I knew that. GET IT."

Laughing, Reno nodded and headed back towards the 'copter with a shivering blond with an armful of dripping clothes in tow. Yes, Rufus was a drug and he was addicted.

He briefly wondered how he would explain this to Rude, Tseng and Elena.


	21. Dirt

For** Le Pecore Nere**, someone who's been following _Project 365_ since the beginning. Sorry it took me so long to finish this; I started the day you requested! gasp. I know. Fail. Um, yeah... Finished with summer school (okay, I finished last tuesday!) I have some unfinished, older _Project_ drabble/one-shots I started, got bored with, ect. that I'm gonna finish today. I'll catch up, promise!

* * *

Cloud Strife frowned. Before him stood the drenched forms of Marlene and Denzel, slowly forming a pool of water on Tifa's hardwood floor. However, that wasn't what made him frown. In the arms of Marlene was an equally drenched, dirty, matted-fur dog. The dog looked like it had been wandering through Edge for years. He sighed, carefully averting his gaze from Marlene's eyes. "Marlene, where did you get that?" He asked, gesturing towards the dog.

"Me and Denzel found him around the Meteor Monument. He looked hungry so Denzel gave him part of his sandwich. Then, we played with him and he came home with us. Can we keep him, Cloud?!" Marlene gave him the most cutest eyes imaginable. Thank god he averted his gaze.

"You'll have to ask your dad, Marlene," he said, frown deepening.

Marlene hugged the dog closer to her chest. "Papa doesn't want a dog," she said. "And Denzel wants to keep him here!"

"Wait, what?" Cloud brought his gaze to Denzel who grinned sheepishly, stroking the fur on the dog's head. "Denzel, we can't have a dog. Tifa doesn't like them."

Denzel shook his head. "No, Tifa loves dogs. _You_ don't like them," he countered, sticking his lip out.

Scowling, Cloud gave the dog a severe, judging look. The thing looked like it hadn't had a proper meal in years, ribs and hip bones jutting out in almost painful ways. It's fur, somewhere beneath the dirt and water, was probably tannish. "No," he said firmly.

"Come _on_, Cloud!" Denzel took the dog from Marlene, holding him up to Cloud. "Look at him. He needs a loving home! I promise I'll take care of him!"

"No means no, Denzel," Cloud said, sighing. This looked like it was going to be a long day.

The sound of footfalls of boots coming down the stairs brought all three heads—four if you count the dog—towards Tifa. She blinked in surprise, not used to having everyone in the room turn their heads towards her when she entered. Slowly, she finished walking down the stairs, half-expecting someone to say something tragic. Then, her eyes fell on the dog in Denzel's outstretched arms. "Aw!" Swiftly walking to them, Tifa took the dog from Denzel and held it up to her face. The dog licked her chin and cheeks. "Aw, how cute," Tifa cooed.

Marlene and Denzel shot Cloud a smug look. Cloud's eyebrows furrowed.

"Can we keep him, Tifa?" Denzel asked.

Frowning thoughtfully, Tifa ran her fingers through the dog's matted fur. "I suppose so... But, you'd have to take care of him, Denzel. Cloud will be out making deliveries and I have to work in the bar... You'd have to feed him, bathe him, walk him whenever he needs it, and play with him. Only _you_." She stressed the final word. She knew kids. They wanted a pet, but expected the adults to take care of them.

Grins broke out on Denzel and Marlene's faces. Denzel nodded. "THANK YOU, TIFA!" He cried, throwing his arms around the woman's waist, hugging her tightly. Taking the dog from Tifa, he and Marlene took off upstairs to the bathroom. "We're gonna go clean him!"

"And make sure you clean up after yourselves!" Tifa called after them, smiling. Turning to Cloud, she tilted her head to the side at his frown. "Something wrong, Cloud?"

Cloud, at a loss for words, gestured and said, weakly, "Dog... kids... no... huh?"

"What? You've never wanted something you mom didn't want you to have and kept bothering her until she said yes?" Tifa laughed, grinning. "Besides, it'll do them good. They need to learn responsibility."

Sighing in defeat, Cloud hung his head and nodded weakly. "I suppose. But," he lifted his head, fixing his mako-enhanced eyes on the bar-maid, "_you're_ taking care of it when Denzel's sick."

"Oh, fine, _whatever_."


	22. Friends

Zack/Cloud friendship bonding. Thanks to my wonderful friend Matt for inspiration since, omg, I love him. He owns my socks. HE COMPLIMENTED MY WORK. And he's a school friend! Almost no one I know likes FF7. Oh, right, and, since I have _no_ idea what the heck is going on in _Crisis Core_, somethings'll be different.

* * *

With a leather gloved hand clamped against his mouth, Cloud Strife groaned, doubling over in an attempt to swallow the feel of nasuea that swelled up inside him. Disgusting. He felt horrid, knowing he was still _so sick_ in trucks or any other moving transportation. He perfered walking, but, walking from Costa del Sol harbour to Nibelheim was incredibly stupid, seeing as how they had a wonderful and in-perfect-working-condition truck.

So, of course, some discomfort was more than worth the advantage of a truck, so said Zack Fair.

Speaking of, the SOLDIER First-Class was standing in the back of the truck with him, another grunt, and the General Sephiroth himself. Zack cracked his knuckles, grinning in amusement. "C'mon, c'mon. _Hurry_," he said.

Sephiroth lifted one silver eyebrow in Zack's direction. "No matter how many times you say it, we're only near Gold Saucer. We still have two to three hours until we're in Nibelhiem. Sit down and calm down." With that, he went back to reading the book in his hands, the _Loveless_ epic a "friend" lent him.

Silently, Cloud whole-heartedly agreed with Sephiroth, but was unable to voice it. His hand was still clamped on his mouth, and Zack's constant twitching was driving him insane. "I don't know why you're so excited," he said, holding his hand a couple inches from his mouth. The truck was currently on a smooth road, safe to speak. At least for now.

"Are you kidding?" Zack plopped down on the ground next to Cloud, staring at his friend in surprise. "You _know_ it's my first _real_, out of Midgar mission as a SOLDIER First-Class! And we're working with Sephiroth! That's awesome!" Sephiroth merely twitched a finger at the mention of his name before returning to his book. "Aren't you excited?"

Cloud gave a short nod, pulling his knee to his chest to calm his stomach. "Of course I am. Nibelhiem is my home town."

Surprised, Zack tugged Cloud's helmet off, allowing the golden spikes to fall freely against Cloud's head. "Really? I didn't know that. I bet you'll be happy to see your folks!" He said, grinning.

Nodding faintly, Cloud took his helmet from Zack and set it down on the floor between them. "My mom, yes. My dad... died when I was really little," he said, voice tight and restrained, like he had some unresolved issues with his father's death. "Though, I'm... a little ashamed, you know. I swore I wouldn't return to Nibelhiem until I was in SOLDIER."

"Well, you _are_ only, what, sixteen? Don't push yourself too hard. You might break under the pressure. I'm sure the folks at Nibelhiem won't be disappointed! Because," he said, "at least you're out there heading towards your dream! That's always a big, important step. What's the saying, Midgar wasn't build in a day or somethin'? Eh, either way, you gotta work for it. And you're working for it!" Zack slapped Cloud on the back firmly, grinning.

While still looking uncertain, Cloud gave Zack a small smile. "You're right. Thanks, Zack."

"Hey, that's what friend's are for, right?" Leaning back against the side of the truck, Zack smiled contentedly. "So," he said after several moments of peaceful silence, "you got a girl back in Nibelhiem?"

Cloud flushed an interesting colour. "Well, I—I...!"

"Oh, ho!" Zack sat up, leaning towards Cloud, grinning. "You do! What's her name?"

Ashamed and embarrassed, Cloud said, "Tifa. But... Well... She's not really—I mean, I like her—alot—but, well..."

"She doesn't know." Zack nodded sagely, arms crossed. His lips twitched slightly in a grin. When Cloud nodded, he said, "Okay. Here is some really useful advice that helped me: just—ask—her—out," grounding out the last four words firmly. "Works everytime!"

Despite himself, Cloud began to laugh. As quickly as it began, it ended. With a hiccup, he slammed his gloved hand over his mouth as nasuea struck yet again. Zack laughed loudly, horribly amused at his friend's condition.

In the corner of the truck, Sephiroth looked up from his play and raised a brow. _Children,_ he thought—despite being only seven years Zack's senior—and returned to his reading.


	23. Return

Two+ more tonight. Need to catch up. (Computer Disconnected. Using dad's.) Submit mini-plots for dedication!

* * *

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The sound of nails impacting against the hard counter top was the only sound filling the kitchen. Her heartbeat and breathing seemed to have quieted to the point of stopping. Pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose, Shera looked at the clock again. Two hours and fifteen minutes since Cid called. Fear and dread clenched at her heart, fingers stopping their tap-tap-tapping against the table to grip white-knuckled at the hem of her shirt.

"Cid," she whispered aloud, feeling the sense of panic gripping her. Where was he? He said they had fought Sephiroth, whoever that was, and was just leaving Midgar. It didn't take him _that_ long to fly back to Rocket Town! Did something happen? Did the _Highwind_ break down? Was he dea—

The roar of a large engine sailed above the house she shared with her Captain.

Standing so quickly the chair she was sitting in knocked over, hitting the floor with a loud smack, she ran to the door, almost tripping over the fallen chair. She yanked the door open and ran outside, slamming it behind her. Shera stared wide-eyed at the battered form of the _Highwind_, elation swarming through her veins as the weathered face of Cid Highwind appeared outside the door of the airship. "Cid!" She screamed, running down the road from their house towards the ship.

Cid Highwind paused mid-drag on his cigarette to stare in surprise at Shera as she ran towards him. He smiled behind the cigarette, plucking it from his mouth and dropping it on the ground. Stomping it out, he climbed down the ladder of the airship and grinned. "Hey, Shera."

Nothing could have prepared the captain for the impact of the smaller body against him as Shera threw her arms around Cid's neck, hugging him to her as if he was her lifeline. "I thought you died," she sobbed, burying her face against his shirt.

"Didn't I just call?" Cid asked, confused, as he slowly wrapped his arms around Shera in a loose hug. Damn, he missed her _so_ much. When they all fought Sephiroth, he was worried he'd never be able to see her again. Inhaling deeply, her scent of oil, tea, and shampoo, he gave her a reassuring squeeze. "I'm fine, Shera, don't kill me yourself," he joked, trying to calm her down.

Shera pulled back, glasses askew with little tear drops against the lens. Hiccuping, she said, "But, I hadn't heard from you and I thought something might have happened. Cid Highwind you are a horrible man _youshouldhavecalled!_" Inhaling sharply, she gasped for air. Cid looked at her with an amused expression. She glared at him, pushing her glasses back into their proper place. "You're cruel," she said, no malice in her tone.

Chuckling, he kissed her cheek, delighting at the blush that rose against her skin. "Sorry, Shera. Didn't mean to scare ya. Now," he said, taking her hand in his and leading her back towards their house, "how 'bout we get some tea?" _That_ prompted a startled laugh out of her. He laughed along with her all the way back.


	24. Medicine

Short and cute. 'nuff said. Send in prompts! heartheart.

* * *

"Achoo!" 

Eleven year old Yuffie Kisaragi clamped a tissue against her red and swollen nose, glaring at her father. "This ish yer faults!" She gasped, pointing a shaking finger at him. "If you didn't locks me out last night, I wouldn't be sick!" Yuffie blew her noise loudly into the tissue, sniffling.

Unable to resist the smirk on his lips, Godo sat down next to her. "No, Yuffie, you refused to come inside after I told you to when it started to rain. No, you wanted to play with your cousin. You wanted to get wet. I _told_ you I would lock you out if you didn't listen to me. This is your just reward," he said, ruffling her tangled, bed-ridden hair. Yuffie swatted at his arm.

"I don't care! Gimme some meds, you old geezer!" She cried, trying to latch onto his arm with her teeth. "I hate being sick!"

With a sigh, Godo stood and left the room, leaving Yuffie to hug her blankets and fall backwards on the fluffy futon. She buried her face in the blankets until she heard her father's barefooted footsteps enter the room. Looking up, she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the bottle of liquid medicine he held out for her, a spoon in one hand, the bottle in the other. "Not that stuff..."

"Yes, Yuffie, 'that stuff,'" he sighed, sitting down on the futon next to her and unscrewing the cap. Carefully pouring the pinkish-red liquid out onto the spoon, he held it out to her. "Open. It might taste bad, but, it works."

Glaring sullenly at the spoon, she took it into her mouth, gave a squeak of disgust, and swallowed it, her entire body twitching with the effort to do such a simple task. "Bleh! Gawd, that's _disgusting_!" She cried, grabbing her glass of water and took a long sip, swishing the water around in her mouth before swallowing almost reluctantly. "Ugh, no more medicine, _please_."

He screwed the top back onto the bottle. "And now my work is done. No more medicine, no more staying out in the rain, yea?" Godo grinned at his daughter. "Now, go to bed," he said, standing and walked over to her lamp, pulling at the string. Seeing his daughter curl up under her blankets on the futon, he left the room with a smile on his face. _Now, she'll listen to me the next time I threaten to give her that medicine if she wants to stay outside in a storm._


	25. Fortune

Project 365 is behind quite abit. I think it'll just be a project with that many fics than a one-fic-a-day-fic. Yea? Yea. Just a conversation, just dialouge, between Cait and Yuffie. This one is actually Cait Sith version 2.0. He spoke, I think, with a more western-ish accent. Short and cute. Set sometime before he get's destroyed between FFVII and DoC. Proper update later. Busy with the _Of Shotguns and Cigarettes_ revison.

* * *

"Tell me my fortune, you fuzzball."

_Jingle_."It says, 'When in doubt, dig a moat.'"

"What?! Gawd, You sure know how to pick 'em. Of _course_ I'd get something as retarded as that. Sheesh."

_Chuckle_. "Actually, Reeve wrote these."

"What? Really? Wow, finally. I have something to rag on him about. Gotta tell Barret this!" _Grin_.

"Ooh, I wanna help. He stuffed me in a locker for two months! Do you know how dusty I was? My poor moogle had to be cleaned it was so dirty, it couldn't move!"

_Giggle._ "Is that why you smelled like lemons when I saw you last time?"

"Pretty much, yea. I wanted pine fresh, he picked lemon. _Lemons._ Guy's boring."

"It's not that I hate or diss the guy alot, he's amazing and funny and yea, but, jeez. He _is_ boring. We should mess with him when he stops by later."

_Snort._ "Want me to try your fortune again?"

"Oh, yea. Come to Yuffie."

_Jingle._ "It says, 'Beware soap dishes.'"

"Gawd, you should have told me that sooner! I freakin' tripped in the shower on the curtain, this morning, and busted my head on the soap dish! I was bleedin' and everything! Tifa thought I had a concussion and wanted to drag me to the hospital. _No_, thank you. Gimme a potion and I'll be happy."

"Bwahaha! Erk, I mean, sorry, Yuff. Shoulda watched where you were goin'. _Youch!_ Leggo of my tail!"

"I'm gonna go throw you somewhere. Tifa?"

"Yes, Yuffie?"

"Does Edge have a lake or a body of water near it?"

"Er, no. Why?"

_Sigh._ "Nevermind."

"You were planning on throwing me in a lake?! You horrible second-rate ninja! ...Why are we going upstairs?"

"Why do you think?"

"Are you gonna throw me out of the window?" _Gulps._ "No. No, no, _no_. Even you're not that cruel."

"Ohhh, yes, I am. Ninjas are very cruel sometimes."

"But, the toilet?! The _kids_ toilet? The one where Barret... _**ya'know**_?"

"Mhm."

"Ah, ah!" _Jingle._ "Your new fortune says, 'You will pave the way for the future.' Wait, huh?"

_Snort._ "Oh, please. I could have told you that."

"Er, Yuffie? Whatchya doin' with that tape?"

_Rip. Bite._ "Gonna tape you to the back of the toilet and wait for Barret to come up Marlene. Wonder if he had spicy food again?"

"Wait! Yuffie! Get back here! Lemme out! I'll tell Vincent! Hey! Don't put tape on my mo—!" _Muffled yelp._

_Knock. Knock. _"Oh, hey, Barret. Bathroom's free if you need to use it."

"Thanks, Yuff. Gotta my way, quickly! Damn lunch didn't agree with me!"

"Nyuk, nyuk. Revenge is _sweet_."


	26. Admiration

Random to the extreme. _Project 365_ will be even more neglected because I'm focusing on _Of Shotguns and Cigarettes_, which I've completely redone. (Chapter one, anyway!)

* * *

Rufus liked a drunk Reno. A drunk Reno was amusing, loud—which normal Reno is, too, but this one was louder—and affectionate. The first time the two shared a kiss was when Reno was drunk. That was probably what set off the liking of this "Drunk Reno." Normal Reno would have silently longed for the blond, knowing his position and pretending that those feelings didn't exist. Thank you, alcohol.

Of course, Reno denied his feelings at first and said he kissed him because of the alcohol, saying he thought Rufus was some "hot chick." He kept up that charade for about a week before finally, reluctantly, saying that he was attracted to Rufus, which had eventually turned into "like." Alcohol can bring out the best—or worse—in people. With Reno, it dropped his barriers and let him express how he felt.

So, after a long night of drinking, Reno passed out on his bed—Rufus had to carry him in because even Rude was too intoxicated to help. Removing Reno's clothes, Rufus pointedly ignored the exposed skin and threw a sheet over him, knowing he'd be hot with a blanket, end up kicking it off of him, then get cold, wake up, put the blanket back on and repeat the process over and over.

Rufus sat down on the edge of the bed beside Reno as he snored in drunken sleep. He couldn't help but stare at Reno's face. He was truly a beautiful man once you got rid of all the arrogance. He had a wonderfully sculpted, almost as if his mother was an artist who designed him while he was in the womb—which she wasn't, he knew. Reno's mother was a teacher in sector two slums.

Tracing the outline of Reno's face, he admired how young he looked when he was asleep. Despite being only twenty six, Reno had the tendency to look twice that during some difficult times—Geostigma nearly killed _Reno, _despite he vehemently denying it.

With one last admiring look, Rufus leaned down and pressed his lips against Reno's and stood. He turned out the light and left Reno's apartment with a light feeling in his chest.


	27. Cake

It's Cloud's birthday. Enough said. (Actually, since I was reading _Good Omens_ before this, things might be a little more humorous than intended.)

* * *

Cloud Strife, ex-SOLDIER-but-not-really, mercenary, and all around silent tough guy stared at the monstrosity before him, lost for words. Her moved his lips several times, trying to will words to form and ended up sighing softly. What should he say? It—his _**birthday** cake_—looked like something out of a horror film.

It was pink, white, kinda falling apart, and gave off a sickly sweet scent. His mako induced sense of smell forced his nose to wrinkle slightly. Helpless, he looked over to Tifa who was pointedly avoiding his gaze, a blush across her cheeks. Feeling rather defeated, he gave Marlene a smile. "Thank you, Marlene," he said, both meaning it and praying she couldn't tell he was lying through his teeth.

Marlene gave him a hundred watt smile. "You're welcome, Cloud!"

After avoiding every living being for hours when Cloud looked at the calender and realized that it was his twenty-fourth birthday, he ended up back home, praying that no one knew or remembered. Or, at least, they wouldn't throw him a party. Bad things—like rain and the Kadaj Reunion—tended to happen on his birthday.

No such luck. As soon as he stepped through Seventh Heaven's doors, his middle was assaulted by Marlene as she latched onto him, burying her face against his belly with a cry of, "Happy Birthday, Cloud!"

Turns out Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel made him a cake for his birthday. Funny looking thing. He was dragged to the kitchen where the children—Tifa went to get the cake—sang him the "Happy Birthday" song. He nearly choked on his tongue when he saw the cake. Even Tifa seemed embarrassed. It looked like a cross between a lake and a desert in degrees of moisture.

He blew out the candles—simply a large wax 2 and another 4 placed right next to each other—and made his wish, which, oddly, wasn't "I hope there's a hospital somewhere close." Somewhere along the lines of, "god, I hope I'm as good of a liar as Yuffie."

Now, Marlene watched him carefully as Cloud stuck his plastic fork into the cake and removed a small piece. Making very sure to keep his face blank in case of nasty taste, Cloud inserted the cake-covered-fork into his mouth and closed it, removing the now clean—ish—fork. He blinked in both surprise and pleasure.

Gone was the nightmarish taste he imagined. It tasted like honey and vanilla, the frosting sweet but not too sweet. He was vaguely aware of the "mmm," the left his throat as he took another bite. "S'good," he mumbled around the sticky texture of the cake/frosting mix.

Marlene's smile couldn't have been brighter. Denzel nodded, satisfied, and even Tifa smiled. She, too, had expected Cloud to dislike the cake. Which was a good thing, really, that he liked it. _She_ would be the one who comforted Marlene and Denzel, possibly being forced to taste it as well, just to make them feel better.

So, what did Cloud learn today? They don't forget that you're turning old, even if they don't see you for hours. And, even Monster Cake's taste good. Yep.


	28. Afterlife

Post game. Aerith and Zack converse in the Lifestream. [Ew, I used WordPad. Want my computer baaaaack. Prepare yourselves for a breakdown of "Why." Five parts TBA!

* * *

Meteor was gone. The Planet saved. Sephiroth dead. Inside the manifestation of a flower field within the Lifestream, Aerith sat besides Zack, her head against his shoulder. "I'm sleepy," she mumbled. "The Planet's tired from the effort it took to stop Meteor, and, now, I feel like I can sleep for a month." 

Zack looked like he wanted to laugh. "Go to sleep, then."

"Don't wanna." She giggled.

He gave her a strange look. "I wonder if there's somethin' in the Lifestream. You're acting like you're on some kind of drug," he teased, gently tugging on her pony tail. "I think you've been smelling these flowers too much."

Aerith gave him a half-hearted glare, punching his shoulder. "Oh, you're such a kill joy. I'm just really happy everything's okay now." She stretched her legs out, carefully avoiding the green and yellow flowers with her boots. "It's like something out of a dream, you know?" She turned to him, a slender eyebrow raised.

"Eh..." Zack seemed to weigh the pros and cons about saving the world while being dead. "Yea, I guess so. Too bad no one knows it was us. But, oh well!" He gave her a wide grin and tugged on her long bangs. "So... Anyone know how long I've been dead?"

She bit her lip slightly. "I don't know... But, about a year ago, I felt something... Someone close to me departed for the Lifestream. I tried to pretend that it wasn't you, but, I knew it was... deep inside." Aerith drew a deep breath, held it for a second, and released it. "It disturbed me when I first felt it that I went home and cried. Mom—Elmyra, not Iflana—was so confused and kept trying to cheer me up." She giggled softly at the memory of her mother's antics.

"Oh, er, sorry?" Zack's grin was a sad attempt that made her burst into laughter. Feigning high insult, he stuck his tongue out at her. "Well, then! See if I talk to you anymore!" He turned his body away from her, pouting out into the distance.

"I'm sorry!" She laughed, tugging on Zack's shoulder hard enough to cause the SOLDIER to tip over, falling against her and knocking her over as well. The two shared a laugh, depressing memories and feelings vanishing. "Oh, I'm glad I have someone to talk to, Zack. I missed you a lot."

He positioned his head to rest on her thighs, smiling up at him with the familiar carefree smile he always wore. "You're such a dork, Aer." Lifting himself up and pressing the palm of his hand behind her head, he pushed both of their faces together, capturing her lips in an awkward—_what do you expect? He's upside down_—kiss.

Aerith squeaked. Not out of disgust, but from surprise. When he pulled back, smirking, she swatted him. "Ohhh, don't kiss me! It's creepy," she teased, leaning down and kissing his forehead.

Zack's nose wrinkled, eyes going slightly crossed. "You love it and you know it."

Smiling contentedly when he said that, she ran her fingers through his hair, staring out at the vast space of the flowers. They both died violently, very young. Maybe, at the very least, the two of them could have a nice and peaceful afterlife together.


	29. Nervous

I see I'm a bit on a Zack/Aerith kick. Hee.

* * *

Her back was to him, but, he had a pretty good idea what expression was on her face. Almost pretty much one hundred percent sure it was a pout. In his mental eye, he pictured Aerith's mouth turned down, her lip jutting out and her slender eyebrows bent in an almost out of character manner. His lips twitched at that.

"I'm sorry, Aerith," he said, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "I know we were supposed to go watch _Loveless_, but, I got held up at HQ." Mentally, Zack winced at the horrible, though true, excuse. "Please don't be mad!" He clapped his hands together, bowing his head.

Seconds ticked by like hours. Zack wondered if she ignored him, but, when he opened his mouth to apologize again, he saw her shoulders shake slightly. Alarmed, he yelped, "Oh, god, did I make you cry?!" He walked swiftly over to her, bent down slightly in worry, his hands moving to grip her shoulders as he faced her. "Aer? Oh, crap, please don't be crying." Like most men, he felt helpless when a lady cried. Aerith crying would probably cause him to have a nervous breakdown. "Aer?" He repeated.

Lifting her head, Zack was both dismayed and relieved to see her crying, not out of sadness, but out of mirth. Her eyes were closed and a small stream of tears rolled down her cheeks. "Oh!" He groaned. "You're horrible, making me worry like that."

"I'm sorry," she laughed, hugging her waist, "to worry you, but, you deserved it!" She continued. "You made _me_ worry, thinking you were sent out on a mission before you could tell me. You should have expected this!"

With another groan, Zack ran both of his gloved hands through spiky black hair. "Ugh. Meanie," he teased. Aerith smiled.

"I'm glad I worried you as much as you did I. Now," she said, brushing invisible dirt from her white and blue dress, "I bought tickets for the showing after the one we were_ supposed_ to go to. I think I kinda knew you'd be late," she teased.

He rolled his eyes, but stuck out his elbow for her to take a hold of. "Fine, fine. Shall we?"

Aerith took it, smiled and said, "Let's."


	30. Paternal

Watch me name my son Zack. (Assuming it was Tseng who told him about SOLDIER.)

* * *

I glared at him and he glared right back. "I'm going," I said, drawing myself to my full height which, sadly, was still three to four inches shorter than him. I spread my legs to brace myself from his harsh glare and angry voice.

"You are not," he repeated for the fifth time, and for the fifth time, he puffed his chest out almost to accent his authority. I almost laughed at that, but, found it inappropriate. My father was not the kind of man who could take sarcasm or amusement in serious situations well.

"Dad," I began, my eyes meeting his directly, "I am going. Nothing you or mom can say will stop me. I'm going to Midgar with Tseng, and I'm going to be a SOLDIER. I am going to be a damn good SOLDIER, too, so, get used to it," I snapped, nodding my head sharply one time.

My father noticed my determination and his eyes softened very slightly. He sighed and nodded. "Fine," he said quietly, his lips barely moving. "Fine, just... just write us every week, okay? And call! A lot. Ohh, your mom is gonna kill me," he added, groaning softly into his hands as he sank into the nearest chair.

I walked over to him, patting him once on the back. "Jeez, chill. It's not like I won't see you guys again, you know?" Even as I said that, as he lifted his head and met my eyes, I wondered briefly if I really ever would. SOLDIER's died often, from monster or enemy. Instead of voicing that, however, I smiled and said, "Don't worry, dad. I'll write so much you guys'll be sick of me."

My father smiled gratefully and nodded.

* * *

Three years later, Zack Fair was wiped from Shinra's SOLDIER directory and his parents never heard from him again. 


	31. Teenage

Humor? Maybe. Ehhh, I dunno. I've actually been wanting to write this for several weeks. Nyu.

* * *

Sephiroth had learned never to under estimate a teenage girl. When he first met Tifa Lockhart, he wrote her off at first glance as an air-headed teeny bopper who liked revealing clothing—something that seemed to becoming a trend in today's teenage girls. She wore a brown micro skirt, a white tank top that revealed her belly, a brown vest and a matching brown "cowboy" hat. If she wasn't underage, he would have suspected her of having breast implants from the sheer size.

However, when he caught one of the MPs—Zack's friend, Cloud, had taken to staying as far away from Tifa for unknown reasons—trying to grab one of her breasts, he was vaguely surprised when the man was flipped upside down before he could blink, Tifa's boot pressing into his throat and an annoyed expression on her face.

The other teenage girl he realized should never be under estimated was the Kisaragi princess. She was small, carefree, easily angered, and—from what he heard—a kleptomaniac. He wrote her off as a pest who couldn't keep her hands off of materia. He learned that was a huge mistake, especially considering he fought her mother in the Wutai war. Of course her daughter learned her moves.

Yuffie was actually very competent in battles. She was skilled in martial arts and could gracefully throw something that was clearly too large for her small stature. He still had the scar, even in the Lifestream, from when her shuriken sliced through his torso. He made a mental note to never under estimate a teenage girl should he ever get out of the Lifestream again.


	32. Flatter

Yaaa... Right.

* * *

"Wait, what?" Yuffie exclaimed, flailing her arms and taking a step towards Reeve in panic. She stared at him like he grew an extra head before her eyes. "You aren't seriously sending me to do that by myself, are you?"

Reeve sighed patiently. "Yes, Yuffie."

"But—but, why not Tifa?" She whined. "I mean, she's good!"

Again, he sighed. "Tifa is with Barret and Cloud leading the ground assault, you know that." He paused before adding, "As soon as you land, Yuffie, you _have_ to rendezvous with Vincent at Reactor Zero."

Yuffie pinned him with a whithering glare. "But, why? Why me?" She asked.

Smiling patiently, Reeve said, "It is because no one other than you, a Wutaian shinobi, can sneak by Deepground soldiers without being detected and defeating them swiftly and silently if you are."

Blinking, she brightened up considerably. "Really?" She asked, then grinned. "So true! You're lookin' at the future empress of Wutai! Haha, why not add 'save the world _three_' times to the list?" She smirked, flicking her thumb across her nose in a Cid-ish fashion. "Haha, look out, evildoers!" She struck a pose. "Your worst frickin' nightmare is arriving!"

One thing Reeve learned to do while he was with Shinra was to, when in doubt, resort to flattery. Nodding, he turned to Cid. "Alright, take off now."


	33. Grief

Crisis Cote spoilers. Not much, 'cause I'll leave out reasons, but, please skip this if you don't want minor to potentially _**REALLY FREAKING BAD**_ spoilers. Later.

* * *

He was sitting several feet away from her on the wooden floor of her church, knees close to his chest, shoulders trembling ever so slightly as he forced himself to hold back his grief. When Aerith turned around mid sentence, she trailed off when Zack finally released a sob. Her heart clenched tightly as he tried to curl into himself, sobbing quietly.

Here he was, grieving for something—some_one_, maybe—and here she was, talking about flowers. Aerith felt guilt and sorrow attempt to swallow her up as she slowly made her way towards the crying SOLDIER, purposely allowing her feet to make louder thumps than usual as to avoid scaring him. When she arrived, she knelt and wrapped her arms securely around his trembling frame.

The dam seemed to break and he cried harder, gripping her hand tightly. Aerith felt like she was choking from the grief she felt radiating off of Zack and she was severely grateful for the fact that she could only feel the planet, not other humans. She might have died with the grief Zack held in. Pulling him against her, she softly hummed a tune her adoptive mother sang to her when she was sad.

Aerith couldn't say anything, not a single word of comfort, but, from the way he clung to her, she felt it must have been enough to just _care_.


	34. Reunion

Okay, so, this is AU purely because it happened differently in that whole _Maiden who Travels The Planet_ novella with Aerith in it... but, other than that, follows whatever. (God, I really am on a Zack/Aerith kick! I think this might be because I'm planning on an AU "What-If-Zack-Never-Died?" rewrite of FFVII.)

* * *

The young, recently deceased flower girl walked the vast lands of the Lifestream, humming silently to herself as she contemplated a variety of things—her life, death, parents, friends, _Zack_, and how she could help Cloud and the others from beyond the grave. Sadly, not a single one of those topics elevated her mood and short of Sephiroth appearing in the Lifestream, good and dead, would cheer her up. She released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding and gave a soft grunt. "Jeez, what's a girl to do to help people she cares about? So _what_ if she's dead?!" She puffed her cheeks out and planted her hands on her hips.

"Ah, jeez. Another incoming mass of energy," a voice said somewhere to her right.

She blinked. She knew that voice! But, from where? Briefly, she tried to put a face of all of the people she knew who've died to the voice and couldn't come up with one. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Um, who's there?"

The sound of someone tripping over their own feet made her blink. The strangled cry of her name made her heart stop. "Oh, my god, Aerith? Is that you?" Footfalls thudded against the ground and a figure silhouetted against the glare of the mako energy. The person stepped out of the light and into her line of proper vision. She gasped.

There, less than fifteen feet from her, was Zack Fair! She gripped the fabric of her jacket above her heart, green eyes wide and horrified. All those years, all those unanswered letters, all of those tears... they weren't because he forgot about her and left with another woman... It was because he died! She felt _so damn __**guilty**_ for even thinking so badly of him. "Oh, my god," she whispered through a choked voice.

"Wow," Zack said, not once blinking since he locked his eyes on her. So, she died? That young? Wow... She wasn't even a soldier where a young death was common. How'd she die? Eh, he'd think on that later.

Aerith released a cry and rushed forwards, abandoning all thoughts on anything and threw herself against him and into his arms. She locked her arms around his waist as he did the same. Crying against his chest, she repeated incoherent and muffled apologies over and over into his shirt while he gently, albeit confusedly, rubbed her back.

"Aer, Aer... Calm down," Zack said, trying to smile despite wanting to fall to the ground with the flower girl in his arms and cry for both him and her and their morbid reunion.

That seemed to snap Aerith out of her tears. Slowly, she pulled her face from his shirt and looked up at him, not once allowing her grip to loosen. She needed physical confirmation that he _was alive_. "I, I... Oh, god, Zack... _You're __**dead**_!" She cried, wiping her tears with one of her hands.

He blinked. "Um, yes... and so are you." He paused. "Why's that now?"

Aerith gave a small sob, a watery smile on her lips as she buried her face in his neck. "I'll explain later. Just hug me. I haven't seen you in so many years."

Zack laughed nervously, holding her tightly against him just below the point of painful. "Ah, yea. About that... Well, I'll explain that later, too."

She laughed. "We have a lot of explaining to do, it seems."

He snorted softly. "Later," he repeated and held her closer. "God, I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Zack," Aerith whispered softly.


	35. Warrior

OH, GOD, MAKE IT STOP. I finally wrote out the first chapter of my AU story. It's up right now under the title "Project Reunion." Yea, I know. Totally original. Whatever. Anyway, please read and review it!

Review this, too, please. 8D Sorry it's short. I need short!

* * *

Nanaki never had felt pride when he came to his father. For more than half his life, he believed his father to be a coward who abandoned his mother to die. After his grandfather had explained things, he had never felt as foolish as he did when he learned the truth—his father sacrificed himself to save his town, his body turning to stone with the poisoned arrows that struck him.

After a fierce declaration that he would live up to his father's proud name, Seto—his father—had cried despite the fact that his body was stone, the tear drops hitting the ground before Nanaki's feet. Now, even centuries after the destruction of Midgar and saving the world from Sephiroth, he always made sure to keep his head below his father's whenever he visited him.

His father was more of a hero than he was.


	36. Picture

Review, review, review!

* * *

Yuffie knelt before the shrine, hands folded in prayer. She wasn't wearing her usual clothing and opted to wear a traditional Wutaian kimono—black fabric with pink designs. After several moments of prayer, she dropped her hands and smiled brightly at the woman in the photo. Long black hair lay pinned to the back of her head, gray eyes sparkling at the camera. She sighed.

"Hello, momma. Sorry it's been a while since I've prayed... I'm sure you know why there was the absence. You are, after all, in the lifestream," she said, smiling sadly. "You'll be happy to know that dad and I made up... Well, more like I kicked his ass and _forced_ him to see my way." She grinned. Yuffie could almost picture her mother's disapproving glare. God, it had been so long.

"Well, anyway. Everyone's doin' well. Shake and I—you remember Shake, right? He was that little ankle biter who followed me around—are still trying to throttle each other, Chekov and Staniv keep dad out of trouble, and Gorky's still annoying as hell." She paused, sighing with a faint smile on her lips. "I helped save the world," she breathed, "I hope you're proud of me... I know I was a brat when I was little, but, I think I grew up some."

She sighed, angling her head to stare up at the ceiling of the room. "I met a guy," she began, grinning and dropping her head down to to photo again, "he's got more baggage than an airport, but, he's still nice. His name is Vincent. He's a little cold, but, I think I can whip him into shape. Kinda like what you did with dad."

After a moment of reflection, Yuffie leaned forwards and pressed her lips against the picture's forehead. "I love you, momma. I'll see you later. Wish me luck," she added, grinning.


	37. Father

Taking drabble requests and pairings. Eh, anything but Aerith/Cloud. And Reno/Rude... and, what-the-hey, no Lucrecia/Vincent. Actually, just go to chapter one for the pairings I like. Any topic—fluffy to tragedy. Please? Running out of ideas here. (Please note that this has minor spoilers for_ On The Way To A Smile: Case of Barret._ Shera did have Geostigma.)

* * *

Denzel sighed, pacing impatiently in front of Edge's Middle School. He was late. Okay, only by five minutes and that was probably because of the traffic—he remembered Reno saying something to Tifa about massive road reconstruction 'cause of Bahamut SIN's attack. The point was Marlene was leaving today to stay with her dad for a week and he wasn't going to be able to say goodbye!

Almost no one had left yet. The traffic_must_ have been bad because there was only four cars in the pick up lane with at least a hundred students on the sidewalk. Denzel sighed. "Where is he?" He asked to himself.

One of the boys besides him—Rick, if memory served—frowned at him. "You're dad ain't here, either?" He asked in a thick sector three accent. Denzel wondered how he hadn't lost it yet.

"Nope," he said, sighing faintly.

Rick bobbed his head. "Practically everybody's parents are having a hard time 'cause of the monster attack." Suddenly, he perked up, turning to Denzel and grinned. "But, wasn't it amazing how Avalanche took out those guys!? My dad said they're the reason we're alive today 'cause of what happened two years ago."

Denzel nodded, hiding the faint blush on his cheeks by turning and looking down the road. "Yea, yea..." He mumbled distractedly.

"So, what do your parents do?" Rick asked, breaking off from his Avalanche high and turned to him.

"Well, my 'mom' owns a bar and my 'dad' owns a delivery service. He's always out," Denzel added somewhat sadly. All true, save for the fact that Tifa Lockhart and Cloud Strife were not his parents, legally or genetically.

Rick nodded in sympathy and let the matter drop. "My dad works with the WRO as a doctor and my mom's in physical rehab for Geostigma recovery."

"Your mom was sick?" Denzel blinked.

"Uh-huh. I heard you got sick, too—I'm glad you're okay." Rick smiled.

Denzel shrugged. "My 'dad' got sick, too. And my 'aunt' Shera... 'Aunt' Shera's in physical rehab, too. She got really, really close," he added, eyes locking to Rick's and understanding was met. Shera Highwind was at death's door.

"Enough with depressing topics! Where's—"

The sound of a motorcycle cut through the air and Denzel recognized it as the Fenrir. He turned to Rick, smiled and said, "Gotta go. That's 'dad'."

Rick nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Denzel said as the black clad blond man on the black motorcycle pulled up. He turned to Cloud before he could see Rick's jaw drop in recognition. "Hey, Cloud," he said, running up to him.

Cloud smiled slightly, helping the boy up onto the back of the motorcycle. "Sorry for being late, Denzel. I got a call from Rufus to deliver something to Reeve," he explained, pushing a child sized helmet onto Denzel's head. "And the traffic from last week's damage isn't exactly helping."

"Uh-huh. I figured you'd be out on a delivery." Denzel gave Cloud a pointed stare.

Saving his dignity, Cloud muttered, "Someone has to pay the bills," completely forgetting the million plus bank account. He ignored the flat stare Denzel seemed to give him through the tinted plastic of the helmet. "Anyway," he said, revving Fenrir, "hold on."

Obeying, Denzel clutched Cloud around the waist tightly, holding on as the man released the brake and sped off. He turned his head to Rick who had seemed to recover and yelled over the rush of wind and the engine, "See you tomorrow!"

Rick could only nod and wave his goodbyes.


	38. Question

I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I was making an AMV (Silverbullets(at)Youtube(dot)com) and I was using a clip from DoC... And this wouldn't stop running through my mind.

* * *

There was one thing Yuffie wanted to know. It wasn't "where did they hide the Knights of the Round materia?" Nor was it "what would it take to make Vincent laugh?" Or "what would happen if you threw Cid's cigarettes into the toilet?" No, no. Yuffie's ultimate question was: "What the hell was Cloud thinking _naming_ his_motorcycle_?!"

No, that wasn't the worst of it. _Fenrir_? He named it after some weird mythological wolf? Every time she looked at it, Yuffie felt to urge to both ride it and knock it over. She refrained, of course, because Cloud still had a sword that weighed more than her.

Doesn't stop her from putting nail polish on it, though.


	39. Good Night

I've had a double dose of _Godchild_ manga and _Mirage of Blaze_ novels (both extremely depressing, for those who don't know), so, everything I write is going to end up being tragic. (I hope you can follow this little experiment!)

* * *

He closed his eyes to the sight. Rain fell around him, damning and cleansing. His own tears mixed in with the cool water and the blood—

_it's not his goddamn it it isn't his blood_

—slowly dripped clean of his pale flesh. Slowly, he released a quivering breath he hadn't known he was holding and opened his eyes. The fallen Soldier's rapidly cooling body—

_he's dead he's dead i'll never be able to tell him how much i appreciate everything he's ever done_

—looked so peaceful in death's embrace. The blond grit his teeth against the pain. _I'm so sorry,_ he wanted to say. He knew he couldn't—

_he's dead he's dead i can't even tell him i'm so sorry this is all my fault!!_

—find the words to express it. So, he gathered himself to his feet, blinked his tears once again, sword hilt in hand—

_**my pride and my dreams i'm giving them to you** i'll never forget!_

—and said the only things he could, "Goodnight... Zack," and walked away.


	40. Cruel Angel

I really have no idea what the hell I was thinking when I wrote this. No plot, mindless text of what was going through my mind when Sephiroth showed up in Advent Children. Eh, take it as you will.

By the way, I am editing the description to the story and changing the category to better fit it.

* * *

To see him again after two long, relatively peaceful years was... unsettling, to say the least. He appeared to suddenly. Kadaj lept off the building, his hand hidden in the sealed box. He whispered, a warning, and I knew what was to follow. I jumped after him. He pulled some of Jenova's cells out of the box and absorbed them. He landed gracefully and I reached him the exact moment it happened.

The demonic angel caught my sword, the Masamune materializing. He slowly looked up at me, a wicked smile playing on his lips and said, "It's been awhile, Cloud."

I gasped and blocked just in time to avoid a swift a attack. It sent me flying. The elegance of that attack surprised me. Oh, after all of these years I remembered exactly why I had admired him so! Yuffie had once described some Wutaian soldiers as artists. I hadn't agreed nor denied because I had never seen it. Sephiroth was... an angel in battle.

I suppose angel is too kind. After the illusion faded, I remembered why I no longer admired him. He was a cold blooded psychopath. But, still. It was hard not to admire the pure beauty of him. His face was like a sculpture and his movements were so graceful it could be described as dancing. It scared me; he had not rusted at all.

Despite _everything_, I still used him as a goal. I wanted to—no, needed to—surpass him in everything. He was still so fast and so powerful...

And he still terrifies me.

"_Stay quietly in my memories..."_

_"I will never become a mere memory."_


	41. Hero

As stated in the previous... installment, I revised the summery... and I still don't like it. Nevertheless, it's okay for now. Anyway... It's angsty. It's humorous... It's Zack's wandering mind. And I still am stuck on Zack and Cloud and Zack's death. What, it's gold! (PS: This was written at four AM.)

* * *

I haven't left my body yet. It's broken, it's battered, and it is undeniably _dead_.

That's okay, though. You're awake, conscious, coherent... whatever. Sorry for having this to be your first... sight in—that letter said it's been four years, right?—a long time.

Apparently dying has made me very eloquent—hint the sarcasm.

I heard you scream in realization. Gotta admit, if my heart was, ya know, working, it would have clenched in empathy. Jeez, Cloud, you got some lungs on ya! I feel really guilty, of course. I've never heard anyone scream in such agony before—let alone for me! Heh, guess I made an impact.

...Ow, I think I just hurt myself with that. Did I, alive, make an impact? Or did my death do it? Probably both, so, I'll let that pass.

But, yea, anyway. You're looking up at the sky, tears in your eyes—or is that rain? You look so helpless that I want to reach out and ruffle those spikes—w_hat the hell is up with that, by the way? Your mom's hair looked... somewhat normal. It can't be gel, it would have washed out in the tube-things and in the rain. Huh. I'll ponder this in the lifestream_—but I can't. I'm dead... and you're alive.

I'm going in circles, but, that's okay. It's how I want it. You're a good kid, Cloud. Everything went wrong for you, it seems, and I just want you to live. Please, Cloud... please live with your hopes and dreams and mine, too.

Argh, Aerith's gonna be upset. I never got to tell her I loved her. Cliché, I know, but it's true. I wish this never happened. I never even got to keep my promise to see her... _Sigh_, seriously.

You stare down at my blood stained face, swallow your emotions—_you know you have to get out of here, there was three guys I didn't take care of and I don't know if they'll come back and make sure you're dead_—and force a sad smile.

"Goodnight, Zack..." You say and I'd smile if I could. Yea, Cloud... I'll take a nice, long sleep. You take Angeal's sword and limp away, allowing nature to take it's course. Hey, Angeal... You're finally giving me those wings, aren't you?

_Now I've become a hero, huh?_


	42. Hair

Uh. I can explain. ...Okay, no I can't. I'm sorry – I lost all interest in the Yuffie!Christmas thing. I'm sorry. I deleted those chapters... Sorry! Here's a small fic to get you through your day!

* * *

"Oh, my god!" Yuffie shrieked. "Your hair! Who killed it?" She demanded, torn between laughing and yelling.

Tifa shot Yuffie a warning glare. "Quiet. I ruined it myself. I fell asleep with gum in my mouth and... well..." She trailed off, showing the ninja her mid back length hair.

"Aw," Yuffie whined, running her hands through the freshly cut hair. "And now I don't to see if you could cover yourself with your hair if I, I dunno, accidentally pulled the strings that kept your bathing suit in place at Costa del Sol..."

Glaring, Tifa silenced the girl with a look. "Well, you should know by now that I have no qualms about hitting my friends if they do something stupid like that!"

Yuffie grinned. "Yea, I saw that black eye you gave Cid! What did he do anyway?"

Flushing, Yuffie caught Tifa mutter under her breath. Words like "Cid" – "alcohol" – "butt" and "Cloud" flickered across her mind and she burst into laughter. "Oh, wow!"

"Wanna see what happens to people who yank on bathing suit strings?" Tifa asked, grinning wickedly over at Yuffie. She was pleased when the kunoichi ran off.


	43. Identity

OH MY GOD. It has been so long. X Hello. Have ya missed me? Yea, sorry. FFVII and I had a bit of a falling out and I have been desperately trying to get back into it. (I ended up doing CC, LO, FFVII, AC, and DoC all in one week. Talk about overload.) It failed and I eventually resorted to watching videos on Youtube. Yum, right? I deleted 43, so, whatever.

* * *

Sometimes, he didn't know who he was. _Was he Cloud Strife?_

Sometimes, he'd catch memories of himself looking into a mirror. _Only, the person staring back had black hair._

Sometimes, he'd remember a man with a smile and a lecture ready. _He didn't know his name._

Sometimes, he'd remember the hot, humid air of the Gongaga jungle. _He had never been there before._

Sometimes, he'd remember kissing a girl with light brown hair and green eyes. _He knew he had never met her before crashing into her church._

Sometimes, the name "Zack" flickered across his tongue when introducing himself. _He didn't know a Zack._

Sometimes, he'd remember aspiring to be a hero. _Didn't he?_

Sometimes, his breath would catch at the sight of a white feather. _Why?_

Sometimes, he wanted to know who stared back at him from the mirror. _Who is Zack Fair?_

* * *

God, this is so trippy. I dunno what the hell happened while I wrote this.


End file.
